


From Russia, Without Love

by magic_maker



Series: Chicago Jo [8]
Category: Chicago Fire, Chicago PD (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Hank Voight is pissed, I'm Sorry, Mention of Child Abuse, Not Beta Read, Not Happy, Please Forgive Any Mistakes, Russian Mafia, So is Antonio Dawson, Tender Hank Voight, crossover from my roleplay, i'm not a doctor or a mafioso, mention of underage rape, shocking but not graphic, this hurt to write
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-14 18:47:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29796258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magic_maker/pseuds/magic_maker
Summary: A multi-chapter arc involving some very bad people. Make sure you read the tags; there's some mentions of child rape (non-graphic) and violence.
Relationships: Antonio Dawson/Joanna Maksim (Original Female Character)
Series: Chicago Jo [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2120460
Kudos: 5





	1. Help Catch the Bad Men

**Author's Note:**

> Not gonna lie, this was a tough one to write. There's pretty significant, non-graphic, mention of child abuse including infant rape. 
> 
> This one is a multi-part. I didn't expect it to develop into as much of a plot as it did.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The 21st needs a Russian speaking female to help with two young children who are afraid of men. Jo agrees, and what she learns causes a rage she didn't know she could feel.

‘Hey Sarge, do we have any female Russian translators?’ asked Kevin Atwater as he approached Trudy Platt’s desk. ‘We got a couple kids who don’t speak English, and looks like they’re terrified of men.’

‘Hm.’ She picked up the phone and dialed the language assistance coordinator and briefly explained the situation. She was frowning when she hung up. ‘There are no female Russian-speaking personnel available at the moment.’ 

Antonio Dawson, who had just entered, heard Platt’s reply and changed course, heading to the desk. ‘You need a Russian speaker? Female?’ 

‘Yeah. The two kids we picked up at the stash house this morning are scared of men.’ Atwater said.

‘My girlfriend speaks Russian.’

‘Really?’ 

‘Yeah, her dads are from Russia. It was her primary language growing up.’ 

Platt considered it for a moment. They were only supposed to use CPD authorised interpreters, but rules could be bent. If it were a grown woman, her response might be different, but these were kids, and in her opinion that changed everything. ‘Call her.’

‘You got it.’ He pulled out his phone and called Jo. ‘Hey baby, we could use your help if you’re free.’ He paused while she replied. ‘No, we have a couple kids here who need a Russian speaker, and they’re scared of men. Apparently there’s only male Russian interpreters right now.’ Another pause then, ‘Okay, see you soon.’ He pocketed his phone and said, ‘She’ll be here as soon as she can. She’s at home, so probably about 45 minutes.’

‘Okay. I’ll buzz her up when she gets here.’ Platt knew Jo and trusted her by now. 

‘Great. Thanks.’

‘I have to chase down a lead now that’s sorted,’ Atwater said. ‘I’ll be back later.’

‘You got it.’

~*~

Jo hurried to get ready, knowing it was kids that needed help. She had no idea what she was about to learn, but it was a safe bet that if the kids were afraid of men, it wasn’t going to be pleasant. Forty minutes later, she bustled into the 21st. Antonio was waiting downstairs, and kissed her briefly before bringing her up.

‘You realise-’

‘That whatever they have to tell me is probably going to suck? Yeah.’ 

‘I’ll be watching in the observation room and I’ll hear whatever you tell Lindsay, so if you need to talk it out later, you won’t have to retell it.’ 

‘Thanks,’ she said gratefully. 

‘Jo, thanks for coming in,’ Voight said, holding out his hand. 

Jo took it shaking it briefly. ‘No problem, Hank.’ She glanced down the hall where Lindsey was waiting for her. ‘Anything I should know?’ 

‘Two girls, maybe 5 and 8 or 9, not sure if they’re sisters. Any time a man gets within a few yards, the little one starts crying and hides behind the older one, who is very protective.’ 

‘Thanks.’ She headed down the hall, followed by Hank and Antonio, who both stepped into the observation room. Erin Lindsey smiled at Jo and opened the door. The girls looked up, the younger one looking scared and the older looking wary and far too world-weary for her age. She introduced herself and asked their names: ‘Privet! Ya Zhanna i eto Erin. Kak vas zovut?’ 

Speaking so quietly that Jo had to strain to hear, the older girl responded, ‘I’m Zasha, she’s Katya.’ 

Jo spelled the names out for Erin, and added, ‘Both names are diminutives, Zasha for Alexandra and Katya for Yekaterina, Ekaterina, or Katerina, so if you’re looking for anything on them by name, you may want to try those, too.’ Erin made notes and nodded. ‘How about last names?’

‘It’s nice to meet you Zasha and Katya,’ then asked, ‘What’s your last name?’ Zasha looked confused so Jo said, ‘Family name?’ When Zasha still couldn’t answer, Jo glanced at Erin. ‘When I ask for their last names, Zasha has no idea what I’m asking. What was their living situation?’ 

Erin flipped back in her notepad, double checking the facts. ‘So they were rescued from a Russian mafia stash house. There’s no reports we could find of them having been kidnapped, so we think that they might actually be related.’

Jo’s expression turned thoughtful. ‘Do you know which Russian crime family?’ 

‘We think the Sokorovs, from-’

‘Atlantic City. Well, Originally St Petersburg Russia.’ 

Erin looked at her in surprise. ‘How-’

‘Long story. Later.’ 

Looking back to the girls, Jo said, ‘Are the people you lived with your parents? Mama and Papa?’ Zasha nodded and Jo relayed that. ‘And how old are you?’ Again she was met with confused looks. ‘They have no idea how old they are. I’m guessing they never celebrated birthdays,’ she told Erin. ‘I want to talk to them casually for a little while before I start asking what happened.’

‘I think that’s a good idea,’ Erin agreed. ‘I can go get some food if you want.’ 

‘Are you hungry Katya?’ Jo asked; she’d been ignoring the younger girl and wanted to get a direct interaction. The little girl nodded, and Jo looked at Zasha, who nodded too. ‘What do you two like to eat? Is there anything special that you want?’ 

‘Pizza!’ exclaimed Katya, speaking for the first time. 

Zasha smiled a tiny smile, and said, ‘It’s the only American food she’s had.’ 

‘Okay, pizza it is.’ 

When Erin left to order the pizza, Jo started talking, asking about school-unsurprisingly they’d never gone, tv and movies, and hobbies. The girls hadn’t had much contact with the world, but they were familiar with a lot of pop culture, not all of it age-appropriate. 

By the time Erin returned, Katya was sitting next to Jo, watching Spongebob on Jo’s phone, with a running commentary of her interpretation of what was happening, since she couldn’t understand what was actually being said. Zasha stayed where she was, watching them. When she looked at Jo, her eyes were tired, but less so than when Jo had come in. When she looked at Katya, though, they softened. Whether or not they were biologically sisters, which was still undetermined, their relationship was very much that of siblings. 

Jo told Erin what they had talked about, even though much of it was seemingly irrelevant. ‘Okay, this is a good start.’

‘On to the less fun stuff?’ 

‘Unfortunately.’ 

‘Can… Maybe we just talk to Zasha, and let Katya watch videos for now? Then if you need more information we can ask her. It might get Zasha to talk more freely. She doesn’t have to worry about protecting Katya from hearing it.’ 

‘Yeah, we can do that.’

‘Okay. Katya, honey, you keep watching Spongebob, okay? I need to talk to Zasha for a bit.’ Already absorbed in the cartoon, Katya just nodded. Zasha stiffened when she heard Jo’s words though. 

Jo pulled a chair to the side of the table, and Erin sat across from Zasha. ‘I know that some, maybe a lot, of what we have to ask you is not something you want to remember or talk about-’

‘It will help catch the bad men?’

‘Yes.’

‘Okay.’ 

‘What should I ask first?’she asked Erin. 

‘I think asking why they’re afraid of men is a good start.’

Jo relayed the question, and Zasha sat silently for almost a full minute, her expression blank. Finally she said, ‘They hurt us.’

‘Can you tell me more?’ 

Over the next 15 minutes, Zasha told Jo about the men who would come and go, raping and hitting them. It seemed like the only limits her parents had set were not to disfigure them and not to give them drugs or alcohol. About three minutes in, Jo had taken Erin’s notebook and started writing. The most disturbing revelation, the one that made Jo stop writing and stare at Zasha in horror, was that the rapes on Katya had started while she was an infant. 

Erin, who had been reading Jo’s scrawled notes, could guess what Zasha had just revealed. ‘How young?’ she asked Jo. 

Since the girls didn’t know their ages, Jo started probing, using common milestones to try to narrow it down. ‘A-assuming normal milestone development…’ She stopped, closing her eyes and composing herself. ‘Seven to nine months old.’ 

‘Jesus,’ Lindsey muttered. 

In the observation room, Antonio crossed himself and turned to his boss. ‘I want five minutes alone with that father, and any of the rapists we catch.’ 

‘You might have to draw straws with your girlfriend for that privilege,’ Hank replied, not saying no. 

Over the next half hour, Jo and Zasha talked more, with Jo explaining that unfortunately, the girls would have to interact with men. Erin explained the forthcoming process, and Jo relayed it. ‘I know that the men you’ve known so far have all been bad. And because of that, you believe that all men are bad. That’s totally normal. But would you maybe be willing to meet a man who I know is very very nice? I’ve known him for around 20 years, and he almost never yells, and would never ever hurt you.’ 

‘Who is he?’

‘His name is Dr Charles. He’s a psychiatrist, which is someone who listens to you and helps you cope with the bad stuff. Can I show you a picture?’ When Zasha nodded, Jo pulled out her phone. ‘This is my 13th birthday.’ Then she found a different picture. ‘This is from my Papa’s birthday, last month. My papa works with Dr Charles, he helps make people feel better too.’ 

Zasha hesitated. She looked at her little sister then back at Jo. ‘You will be there?’

Jo relayed the question to Erin. 

‘I think you’d have to be. She seems to trust you, and Dr Charles doesn’t speak Russian.’

‘Not any that would be work appropriate,’ Jo corrected, forcing a half of a smile. 

Erin’s phone buzzed and she read the text, then showed it to Jo. It said only _Yes_. 

Looking back at Zasha, Jo nodded. ‘I’ll be there.’

The older girl looked at Katya again, frowning. ‘I can sort of be okay with men. But she is scared of all. Do we have to be around men?’

Jo knew that there was no way to avoid interactions with men entirely, only to delay them briefly. Still… ‘How about… any men you will have to interact with, you meet them before we introduce them to Katya. So you can tell her that it’s okay. And if there’s any man who scares you or you’re uncomfortable with, we can try to find someone else. And I promise you will never be alone with a man.’ 

Zasha watched Katya watching Spongebob, then looked up at Jo again. Finally she gave a small nod. 

Jo relayed the information to Erin. ‘Good work. We need to get them to Med for exams, including rape kits. Can you come?’ 

‘Yeah. I… I want to see this through, as far as I can, with them.’ 

Erin squeezed Jo’s arm and smiled. ‘Thanks. I know this is tough. I really do.’ She closed her notebook and said, ‘I need to talk to Hank for a minute. Can you let them know that we’ll be taking them to Med, but we will make sure that they only have female caregivers there.’

‘I will. And I’ll… I’ll help prepare them both for what’s coming,’ she added, meaning the rape kit, which was probably going to be a new trauma for Katya, if not for both.

Erin stepped out and Jo turned to Zasha. ‘We’re going to have to have you examined by doctors-female doctors. They’re going to have to look at you where the men hurt you, including....’ She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath. ‘Including between your legs.’ 

Zasha froze. ‘Pizda?’ Hearing the crude slang from a child’s mouth was not nearly as jarring as it should have been, and probably would have been a few hours ago. 

‘Yes.’

‘You will stay?’

‘Absolutely.’ It might break her heart, and Antonio, and possibly Dr Charles or Daddy, would be picking up the pieces, but she’d be there. 

‘Can I be with Katya when they look at her?’ 

‘I don’t know. I will ask. But I’ll be there either way.’ 

Zasha considered this. ‘I will tell her now, what must be done.’ And she did. Jo reclaimed her phone, to minimise distractions, and sat near the younger girl, but let Zasha tell her everything they had talked about. When she got to the part about the physical exam, Katya tensed and started yelling _no_. Zasha knelt in front of her, holding her hand and looking far more like an adult than any child should, and cooed to her. She’d clearly been in this position before. Finally, Katya settled. Jo glanced at the mirror hoping Antonio really had heard everything, because she didn’t think she’d be able to tell him.

~*~

It was one a.m. before the girls were finished with all the exams. Tina Cantrell, the social worker assigned to the girls, had somehow found a Russian speaking foster family, and Zasha met the father and mother without Katya, as promised. Once she had determined that the man seemed safe, the foster parents were brought to Katya who was sitting with Jo. Ivan understood the circumstances, and stood back nearly ten feet, so that Katya could see and hear him, but he wasn’t close enough for her to feel threatened.

‘Do you think it would be okay for you to stay with Ivan and Natasha for a while?’ Jo asked, relaying Tina’s question. 

Katya looked at Zasha who nodded. She had determined that Ivan was nothing like the men that had been brought around before. Finally Katya also nodded.

‘I will let Natasha do most of the care for Katya, and for Zasha too, if you prefer?’ he asked turning and addressing Zasha directly. 

‘Maybe yes. For now.’ 

‘I understand.’ 

Speaking to the girls, Jo said, ‘I need to go for now. I will see you again soon.’

Out in the hallway, Antonio and Hank waited. ‘You okay?’ Antonio asked.

‘Ask me that when we get home, and I can let go of my control.’ She turned to Hank and walked close, so that she could speak quietly. ‘Remember what I said about if I see you try to kill someone?’

‘I do.’

‘For the scumbags involved in this case, that goes out the fucking window.’ Her face was hard; she was fighting a rage unlike any she had ever experienced. 

‘I understand.’ He rested a hand on Jo’s shoulder. ‘You did good today. Real good. If it’s okay with you, I’d like to ask Chief Boden if he’ll let me borrow your services, to keep helping those little girls.’

‘Whatever it takes. If he says no, well, I have plenty of leave saved up.’ She turned and leaned against Antonio, exhaustion catching up to her. ‘Get me home. Please,’ she whispered, her voice cracking. 

Antonio glanced at Voight, who nodded. ‘Go.’

~*~

They went to Antonio’s house, because it was closer, and because she felt emotionally safe there. Jo had fallen asleep in Antonio’s car, and he carried her inside carefully. She stirred when he set her on the bed and looked up at him.

‘That wasn’t a dream, was it?’

‘No, honey.’ 

Jo sat up and leaned in against Antonio. ‘You heard it all?’ 

‘Everything. I didn’t leave the observation room.’ 

‘Nine months…’ she whispered, clutching Antonio’s arm. ‘Nine _months!_ Who does that?!’ she yelled, starting to shake. _’WHO FUCKING DOES THAT?’_ she screamed before her face crumpled and she started sobbing.

‘Let it out,’ Antonio whispered, holding her and rubbing her back. ‘I’m right here.’ As he held her, his eyes settled on a picture of his daughter Eva and he stared at it, his heart hurting. 

When Jo was asleep again, he pulled out his phone to text Eva. _I know I don’t say it or show it nearly enough, but I love you_


	2. We'll All Get Each Other Through This

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jo continues to help the two girls CPD rescued from a stash house.

Both Hank Voight and Jo stood in front of Chief Boden. Voight had indeed asked Boden if he could borrow Jo for some time, so she could work with the two girls CPD had rescued. ‘You sure you want to do this?’ Boden asked Jo. 

‘Yes and no,’ she said honestly. ‘But I do know that I don’t want to hand them off to someone else, and break the little trust they have. Their foster parents are Russian, but I told them I’d be there when they meet Dr Charles and I’d like to keep that promise, at minimum.’

‘Joanna was amazing with these girls, and I feel like it would benefit them for Jo to stay involved at least for the first few appointments. You know I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t feel like it was in their best interest, Wallace.’

‘I know.’ He didn’t really want to run squad light, but he understood the reasoning. And if he could let Severide go AWOL after Shay’s death, he couldn’t really argue with Maksim helping two girls rescued from a nightmare situation. ‘All right. Keep me posted.’ 

‘Will do.’ Voight opened the door for Jo and she smiled faintly. 

‘It’s the first time I’ve ever signed up to deliberately get my heart broken,’ she said. 

‘It’s not easy. I’ve been doing this for a long time and sometimes things get to me. And to be frank, this case is going to be one of those. Focus on the good you can do and have done. It’s going to hurt. A lot, I won’t lie to you. But right now, you have the chance to make a very real difference in those girls’ lives. Whatever happens, they will never forget you. And if you ever need to talk, I’ll do my best to get free.’ 

‘Thank you,’ she whispered. 

‘No. Thank _you_.’ He opened his arms, offering a hug, and she accepted. ‘I’ll see you at Med around 2:30?’ Katya and Zasha had a 3 p.m. appointment with Dr Charles and the plan was for Jo to meet Antonio at the 21st. 

‘Absolutely.’ 

She headed to the squad table where Capp, Tony, Newhouse, and Kelly sat. She’d texted Kelly the night before, so he was up to speed. ‘Boden good with Voight borrowing you?’ 

‘Yeah. Starting today I’m on loan to intelligence.’

‘Why’s that?’ Newhouse asked. 

‘Antonio called me to ask for help with a couple kids who only speak Russian, and needed a female to talk with. And it seems like they’ll need my help for a little longer. If it wasn’t kids… I could walk away. But they’re afraid of men, and I said I’d be there when they meet with Dr Charles, and… I need to be there at minimum for that.’

‘They the kids from the stash house CPD did yesterday?’ Tony asked, looking up from the Tribune, where he was just now reading about it. 

‘Yeah. Russian mafia. Ironically… I know the head of that crime organisation,’ she added with a short, humorless laugh. Only Kelly was unsurprised by that. 

‘Just be careful,’ he cautioned. ‘And call me if you need me.’ 

‘Thanks Kel. This one… I may stick with talking to Antonio or Voight. There’s details that… it’s probably better you don’t know.’ 

Newhouse raise an eyebrow curiously, but only Capp asked, ‘Like what?’ 

‘Details about sexual assaults they endured.’ 

‘Real bad?’

‘Worse than real bad.’ She shook her head, jaw tightening. ‘I’m probably going to have to talk to Dr Charles myself, to be honest.’ 

The tones went off just as she finished, and squad was dispatched to a car accident. Kelly squeezed her shoulder and said, ‘Hang in there. And keep me posted, as much as you’re comfortable talking about.’

~*~

Shortly before 2 p.m., Jo entered the 21st and Trudy, arguing with someone on the phone, waved her toward the stairs, buzzing her through. When she got to the office used by intelligence, she saw only Olinsky, Ruzek, and Antonio, as well as a woman she hadn’t met.

‘Hey babe,’ he greeted her. ‘This is Nadia. She’s working here until she can get into the police academy.’

‘It’s nice to meet you.’ She stole Jay’s chair, moving it to Antonio’s desk to sit with him.

‘So, how are you feeling about this meeting?’ 

‘Anxious as hell,’ admitted Jo. 

Antonio reached over and squeezed her hand. ‘Thank you, for doing this.’ 

Jo smiled faintly. ‘I’m thinking…’ she paused, organising her thoughts. ‘I don’t know if Hank would go for it, or CPD brass… but my daddy might be better suited to interpret for them in therapy, or to be the one to treat them, since he speaks Russian, and is a psychologist.’

‘It’s worth asking. What’s his name? I can’t think of a psychologist in the area named Maksim.’

‘It’s not. Dr Zlenko.’

‘Anatoliy Zlenko?’ asked Hank, entering the room. ‘What about him?’ 

‘He my dad.’ 

Antonio gave a summary of Jo’s idea. While normally good at reading people, Jo hadn’t yet managed to get a read on Hank, who was extremely good at concealing his reactions. So she just waited. 

‘If Dr Charles okays it, I’m fine with it.’ He looked down at Jo searchingly. ‘I know you want you to stay involved with them as much as possible and I want that for you, but I also need you to look out for yourself mentally. So you need to tell me when something is too much. This is a good start.’ 

Jo met his piercing eyes. ‘I will,’ she promised. 

She spoke briefly to Dr Charles about the idea before the session with the girls started. She suspected afterward she wouldn’t be in a frame of mind to have any conversation. 

‘I considered that. I don’t know how they’ll take to the idea, being another man. I understand why you want to step out of this role. And I support you doing that. Do you think you can get through a couple sessions while we make the arrangements and try to get them comfortable with it?’

‘As long as I can get some therapy with you myself after.’ 

‘Always.’ 

‘Do you want ongoing verbatim translation only, or interpretations when possible?’ 

‘Start with verbatim. I’m going to record these sessions, just in case I need to go back because of the language barrier, so if I need interpretation or clarification later, you’ll have that to refer to.’

Jo’s reply was cut off when she heard, ‘Zhanna!’ from behind her. Katya ran over and hugged her legs. Jo was confused by the change in her personality literally overnight. 

‘Kids are resilient,’ Dr Charles said, seeing her confusion. ‘She’s been safer than ever, and with people who are treating her well.’ 

‘Got it.’ Looking down at Katya, she asked, ‘Can I pick you up for a hug, or do you want me to come down to you?’ 

‘Down,’ the little girl said after a slight hesitation. Jo knelt and opened her arms, letting Katya take the lead. Zasha had joined them by then, more withdrawn than her sister, but looking far better than she had the day before. ‘Would you like a hug?’ Jo asked Zasha. 

‘Okay,’ the older girl mumbled, looking anxious. 

‘It’s okay to say no,’ Jo said. ‘You don’t owe anyone a hug ever.’ Zasha stared blankly. ‘You used to get in trouble if you didn’t hug people,’ Jo guessed. A nod. ‘Not here. Not with me, or Dr Charles, or Ivan and Natasha. You only hug people when you want to, from now on.’ 

Zasha looked as though a weight had been lifted. ‘Okay. I hug you. Don’t hug back.’ 

‘Okay.’ 

The girl wrapped her arms around Jo, who remained still, and squeezed briefly, then stepped back. ‘Thank you. I was scared you would not listen, but you did. I like that. I like you,’ she added. 

Jo’s chest genuinely ached by this point, from the emotions she was repressing. ‘Thank you,’ she said, her voice hoarse. She stood then, and looked at Dr Charles, then at the girls. ‘Are you ready to talk to my friend? I’ll be right with you.’

Zasha looked up at the man assessingly. He wasn’t as warm as Ivan, but he wasn’t scary or mean looking either, and she finally nodded. She took her sister’s hand and squeezed it, leading her into the office. 

Jo sat at the table in between Dr Charles and the girls. He moved straight into telling them what to expect speaking directly to them. Jo translated as they went, stopping him a couple times so she could explain something the girls didn’t understand. 

When that was done, the hard part began. Zasha did most of the talking, but at times Dr Charles would insist that Katya answer for herself. He kept things as gentle as possible, but they could both see that the questions were taking a toll on Katya. 

‘Why don’t you come over here and watch Spongebob,’ Jo said abruptly. She set the smaller girl up on a chair in the corner, pulled up the cartoon on her phone, and returned to the table. 

‘Good idea.’

‘I know,’ she replied with a shaky smile. 

‘We’re almost done,’ he promised. Indeed, the remaining questions only took about 10 minutes. 

When he had finished, he told Jo to ask Zasha about bringing Jo’s father in, to interpret for the sessions. 

‘My papa is a doctor, too, very similar to Dr Charles. And he is from Russia. With your permission, I would like for you to meet him. That way he can help you talk to Dr Charles. I’m happy to, but I have to start working again soon, so I won’t be available to do this.’

‘Oh.’ Zasha swung her legs back and forth, looking at Jo and frowning. ‘But you will still see us? Sometimes?’ 

‘Absolutely,’ she promised. 

‘Okay. I will meet your papa. If he is nice, we can do that.’ 

‘Okay. I will talk to him and Ivan and Natasha, and we will all meet. Maybe your next appointment with Dr Charles?’

‘Yes, that is good.’ 

She slid off her chair and sat next to Katya, to watch the last few minutes of Spongebob. She had clearly had enough interacting for the moment. 

Dr Charles moved to sit beside Jo, and looked at her. ‘It’s not often that I say I hate someone…’

‘I know. I agree. Will they really be okay?’ 

‘They’re always going to carry the trauma of this. But we can work to ease it and help them process it, so they won’t be any more screwed up than the average person.’ 

Jo’s smile was wan. ‘If anyone can help them with that, it’s you and daddy.’

‘How has your own recovery been going?’ he asked, referring to working through the cave-in. Kelly had finally managed to talk her into getting help, even though it wasn’t Dr Charles. 

‘It’s… painful.’ 

‘Good. That tells me you’re making progress. Time to get them back to Ivan and Natasha. I’ll call Tolya later to arrange meeting the girls.’ He looked at them, his smile sad. ‘We’ll all get each other through this.’

It didn’t take long for everyone to be on their respective ways. Antonio wrapped his arm around Jo as they walked to his car. ‘Staying over tonight?’

‘I’d like to, yes. I’d…’ she hesitated. ‘I’d like to for the time being, honestly. With dealing with this… it helps, having you around.’ 

‘You mean moving in?’ 

She couldn’t read his tone, and quickly replied, ‘Temporarily.’

They reached the car, and he turned to face her. ‘I’ll clear some drawer and closet space,’ he said before leaning in to kiss her. ‘However long you need.’

After dinner, Jo’s dad called her. Anatoliy Zlenko was a well-regarded member of the faculty at University of Chicago, and she knew that her request, via Dr Charles, was a tremendous one. She also knew he would feel compelled to help. Speaking in Russian, which was still her parents’ preferred language, she explained the reason for her request. 

‘I had nightmares, Papa. I want to be in their lives, but I cannot do these sessions.’ Her voice was shaking and Antonio moved to sit beside her and comfort her while she talked. 

‘Dan was not too specific, since I am not their doctor as yet, but he said it is bad. What can you tell me that is not protected information?’

Looking to Antonio for a moment she said, ‘I’m allowed to tell my papa what the girls told me, in the station, yes?’

‘Absolutely.’

She returned the phone to her ear. ‘Papa… they were… prostituted, basically. They’re only around 8 or 9 and 4 or so.’ 

‘You don’t know their ages?’

‘They have no reference for that. They don’t know family names, their ages, they were cut off from the world. Except from the men who would come rape them.’ Her voice had hardened with anger. ‘They started on Katya when she was… just a baby. Not even a year.’ 

‘My God,’ Anatoliy gasped. ‘Yes, I will help, if the girls will allow me.’ 

‘Thank you Papa. I need to go. Tell Dad I love him, and I’ll see you tomorrow.’ She hung up and turned in toward Antonio, clinging to him.

~*~

The next day, Antonio accompanied Jo to Dr Charles’s office, though he would step out before the girls were due to arrive. Anatoliy entered shortly after greeting Jo and Dr Charles both with a warm hug.

‘And you must be Antonio.’

‘Yes sir.’ 

‘No; you call me Tolya.’ 

‘Yes si- Tolya,’ Antonio said, finding himself pulled into a hug as well. 

Jo laughed at his expression. ‘Daddy is a hugger. Papa is not. He says Daddy hugs enough for both of them.’ 

‘He is not wrong. Yushka is more reserved. It is okay. We complement each other.’ 

‘What does your other dad do?’ Antonio asked, realising he knew little about his girlfriend’s family. 

‘He’s a geologist. He teaches geophysical sciences at U-Chicago. Daddy teaches psychology there.’

They were startled by a small cry. The girls had arrived and weren’t expecting Antonio. Unperturbed, he stepped back, out of sight, and Anatoliy knelt on the floor, smiling genially. In Russian, he addressed the girls. 

‘I am Doctor Zlenko. You can call me that, or Anatoliy, if you prefer. My Zhanna has told me about you, and I want to help you, if you will let me.’ 

Katya stood behind her sister, peering around her warily. Zasha studied him guardedly, then looked at Jo. ‘He is your papa?’

‘Yes.’ 

‘You like him? He is good?’ 

‘Very.’ 

Looking back at Anatoliy, Zasha said, ‘Many bad men hurt us. Katya is afraid of men. So I try to protect her now.’

‘You are doing a good job.’ 

She turned to Katya. ‘He is okay. I believe he will not hurt us. And Zhanna will be there, right?’ 

‘Yes. I will stay again. I am going to sit by the corner, but I am still there if you need me.’ 

With that assurance Zasha, holding her sister’s hand, led her into the office, where they resumed their seats from yesterday. The two men sat diagonally from them, so they were across the table and several feet further up as well. Katya eyed them warily, but Jo was there to protect her. 

The session lasted about 45 minutes, with Katya once again disengaging about halfway through and moving to sit with Jo and watch cartoons again. 

After the session wrapped up, Anatoliy said to Dr Charles, ‘I will help treat them, yes. If you have a few minutes, we can sit and devise a plan for treatment and coordinate care.’ 

‘I do have time.’ 

‘Zhanna, will you be with us in the next session?’ Anatoliy asked, drawing Zasha’s attention. 

‘I’m on loan to CPD so I can be.’ Turning to the girls, she said, ‘I will maybe sit in a few more sessions, like I did today, and then after a few I will sit in the waiting area, so I am there if you need me, but you get to practise being with Dr Charles and Tolya. We will take it a day at a time, though.’ 

‘Okay,’ Zasha said quietly, looking up at the adults.

‘I will see you tomorrow,’ Jo promised the girls. 

It only took a four more sessions for the girls to be comfortable enough that Jo could wait in the waiting room, and another 2 days until she was no longer needed. She promised to visit them soon at Ivan and Natasha’s, not knowing that it would be broken.


	3. She's Gonna Be Okay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jo's past connection with Russian Mafia, though negligible, comes back to haunt her. Antonio (finally) makes a realisation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, the title is a spoiler. Also, canon divergent, Will Halstead shows up in late summer 2014, instead of Spring 2015

When his phone rang with Jo’s ringtone, Antonio sighed and sent it to voicemail. They had had a bad argument the night before and he seriously wasn’t in the mood to talk to her this morning. It rang again less than a minute later and irritation took over. ‘What?’ he said harshly. There wasn’t an immediate answer and if she hadn’t called twice, he’d have assumed it was a pocket dial. Then he heard what sounded like raspy breathing, as though she was choking, and froze, dread growing in his chest. ‘Jo?!’ 

The alarm in his voice drew the attention of Olinsky, Lindsay, and Halstead, the latter of whom was on his feet and next to Antonio within seconds.

‘H-help.’ The single word took almost everything she had. 

Even so, Antonio barely heard her.

‘Are you at your house?’ He covered his right ear with a finger, straining to hear her and even then barely made out her _yes_. 

Before he was on his feet, Erin was by his side with Olinsky close behind. ‘Let’s go. Is she home?’ 

‘Her place, yeah.’ 

Voight was coming up the stairs as they hurried out. ‘What’s going on?’ 

‘Something’s wrong with Jo,’ Antonio said. ‘She’s hurt or something.’

‘Go.’ 

‘You drive,’ he told Erin when they reached the parking lot. He dialled 911 and when the operator came on barked, ‘This is Detective Antonio Dawson, badge number 50259. I need an ambo rolled to 3008 W 107th St.’

‘What’s the nature of the emergency?’

‘I don’t know. I got a distress call from the resident.’

‘I’m sorry but I can’t-’

‘Don’t fucking make me call Hank Voight,’ Antonio snarled. 

The name had the desired effect and the operator replied only, ‘Dispatching now.’ 

The car screeched to a stop at Jo’s house minutes later and no more than ten seconds before the ambulance. Jo lived in the catchment area of her own firehouse and Antonio was slightly comforted to see his sister and Sylvie Brett climb out of ambulance 61. 

‘Isn’t this Jo’s?’ Gabby asked him, grabbing a medical bag while Brett pulled out the stretcher. 

‘Yes,’ he said tersely sprinting for her door. He tried it but it was locked. He pulled out his keys fumbling for hers. He opened the door and headed into the house looking for her. His heart skipped a beat when he found her, on the floor of her bedroom, an incomprehensible amount of blood on the floor and bed. 

Gabby and Brett pushed past him and went to work on Jo and Erin put her arm around Antonio. ‘Come on.’ When he resisted, she said firmly, ‘Hank is in the living room. You need to fill him in.’ 

When they got back to the front of the house, they saw Squad 3, Jo’s team, had just arrived. Kelly Severide had heard Jo’s address and rerouted them to her house instead of back to the station. 

‘What happened? How is she?’ he asked Antonio, looking as terrified as Antonio felt. One of Kelly’s best friends had been killed only a few months ago, and the prospect of losing his other best friend was almost more than he could handle.

‘I don’t know. But it looks real bad.’ His voice was hoarse. The last time he’d been this scared was the day his son had been kidnapped about 7 months earlier. He swallowed back the panic and told Kelly and Hank what had transpired.

Hank grasped his shoulders. ‘Hey; look at me.’ When Antonio met his eyes, he continued, ‘If she has even half a chance, she _will_ make it. She’s a fighter.’ He looked at Severide, too, and repeated, ‘She _will_ be okay.’ Antonio wondered if Voight was trying to convince himself.

Halstead joined them. ‘I called my brother. He’s standing by. They’re going to have everything ready to go before she’s even out of the house,’ he promised. Nodding numbly, Antonio felt a tiny surge of hope. Will Halstead was probably the best emergency doctor at Med, and was also a qualified surgeon so he could see Jo’s care all the way through.

While they were talking, Olinsky had headed into the bedroom to survey the scene and learn what he could from the paramedics as they worked, without interfering. When he returned, he conferred briefly with Voight, then joined the other men and said, ‘This doesn’t look like a burglary. Nothing seems out of place, although you might want to confirm that.’ 

‘If it’s not a robbery gone wrong, what is it?’ Kelly asked.

Olinsky glanced at Voight, who nodded, and then back at Antonio. ‘It looks like a failed hit.’ 

‘A _what?'_

Before Olinsky could answer, Gabby and Brett exited the bedroom with Peter Mills right behind, carrying two IV bags. Severide started to follow, then stopped and looked back at Antonio. The other man had as much right to go in the ambo with her, but Antonio shook his head. ‘Go. We’ll be right behind.’ 

‘Thanks man.’

Before he followed, Antonio went back to Jo’s bedroom to, as Olinsky had suggested he do, see if anything was out of place. He quickly checked the places burglars tended to, as well as the places he knew Jo kept anything of value. Absolutely nothing appeared to be missing, and the drawers were too neat to have been rifled through. Olinsky was right; this had been a straight up murder attempt, and nothing else.

~*~

At Med, Will Halstead prepared a trauma room, calling for multiple units of blood as well as extra IV fluids. From what Jay had told him, Jo was likely to be dangerously hypovolemic and he wanted to try to get ahead of the curve.

He stopped at the nursing station and picked up the radio to contact the paramedics. ‘Chicago Med to Chicago Fire 61.’ When Gabby responded, he said, ‘Try to get two large bore peripheral IVs if you can.’

‘I’ve got a 16 in the AC. I can try a 14 in the EJ?’

‘Do it.’ 

Will could actually hear the ambulance approaching before Gabby radioed, ‘Got it, we’re on your doorstep.’ 

Not even a minute later the trauma team took over care. Sylvie was on the stretcher, straddling Jo and performing CPR until the nurses could take over. By the time she was back in the waiting area, the room was teeming with all personnel from 51, as well as most of the Intelligence cops. 

Gabby was sitting with Antonio on one side, her arm around him and her other hand reaching across him, holding Kelly Severide’s hand. The lieutenant looked shattered and numb as he spoke to Jo’s dads, who were out of town for a conference.

Voight was on his phone in the corner, coordinating patrol and intelligence efforts to find out just what the hell had happened at Jo’s house. He had a suspicion that it was related to the Russian mafia case that Jo was assisting on, but he couldn’t figure out just yet why it was Jo, when she’d only been a translator. 

When the radio squawked, dispatching the entire firehouse to a call, Boden pushed Kelly back down. ‘You are not in any condition to work right now. Stay here.’ 

‘Chief we’re already a man short.’ Jo was still on loan to CPD, which was why she had been at home, and not at work.

‘I called in Thompson from B shift. We’ll be fine.’ 

With that assurance, Severide dropped back into the chair with a nod. 

Soon it was only Antonio, Severide, Voight, and Lindsay in the waiting room. The other intelligence cops had been sent on various tasks, trying to make sense of the murder attempt. 

‘I’ve never told her I love her,’ he said abruptly, choking on the words as he struggled with his emotions. Their relationship over the past seven months had been volatile; Jo had likened it to gasoline and fire. He’d always taken for granted that when tempers had calmed, she’d be there again. 

‘You’re going to be able to,’ promised Lindsay, squeezing his hand. 

Nearly six hours after they’d arrived, Will Halstead entered the waiting room, still in his surgical scrubs. Antonio jumped up, studying the doctor’s face for any indication of the news to come. 

‘She’s in ICU now. We’ve got her stabilised, but the next 10 to 12 hours are critical.’

‘Is she going to survive?’ At the moment, that was literally the only thing Antonio cared about.

‘She’s got slightly better odds than I had expected.’

‘What the hell does that mean, Will?’ Antonio asked, voice rising.

Will didn’t flinch. ‘When she arrived, I didn’t think she would make it long enough to get her to the OR,’ the doctor replied bluntly. ‘She had lost nearly half of her blood. But right now, I actually have hope that she’ll survive.’ He didn’t add that it was a long shot, and that the odds were not in Jo’s favor. ‘I think Jay calling me tipped the scales enough to give her a chance.’ 

Antonio finally relaxed, the tightness in his chest easing. ‘Thank you. Can I-we-see her?’ 

‘No more than fifteen minutes, total.’ He gave them her room number and said he’d call up to let the nurses know.

~*~

Antonio, Hank, and Erin waited in the hall while Kelly entered the small room. He leaned over and kissed her forehead before whispering, ‘I love you JoJo. Don’t die on me. I can’t handle losing you too.’ Despite his grief, he was mindful of the time, knowing Antonio needed to see her as well, and he exited the room after only about five minutes.

As he wiped his eyes, Erin hugged him. She rested a hand on his cheek and said, once again, ‘She _will_ be okay.’ Kelly nodded and hugged her back, letting her give him some strength. ‘Come on; I’ll drive you home,’ she said. Kelly followed silently, grateful that she had taken charge. 

In the room, Antonio took Jo’s hand. It was so cold he was afraid she was dead, but the monitors tracking her vital signs indicated that all was well, or as well as could be. ‘I have no idea if you can hear me. But I’ve waited too long to say this. I love you. I’m sorry I waited, I’m sorry that I’ve taken you for granted, I’m going to change that. And I’m sorry I’m such a stubborn asshole sometimes. Right now… I need you to hang on. I need you to fight, for you, your life, so that I can make it up to you.’

Hank poked his head in. ‘You’ve got two more minutes, Antonio,’ he cautioned. 

Antonio waved a hand, indicating that he had heard the sergeant but he didn’t reply to him. ‘I swear on my children, that I am going to find who did this, if it takes the rest of my life.’ He smoothed her hair back, kissed her forehead, whispered ‘I love you so fucking much,’ and straightened, managing to make it out of the room before he broke down. 

Despite his stoic gritty demeanor, Hank Voight was unafraid to hug other men, or anyone who needed it. He pulled Antonio in, and let him get out emotions that had been tormenting him all day. ‘She’s gonna be okay, Tonio,’ he assured the younger man when he straightened and wiped his face. 

The person who had done this, though, that was another story.


	4. Retribution (Is Fair After All) (uipdated)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The introduction of Evgeniy Kirilov who came to Chicago to clean up the mess of the failed attempt on Jo's life. And he tries to. As a result, Antonio comes to understand Hank's motivations to occasionally deal justice of his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I updated this to cover a gap explaining how Jay and Kevin found Evgeniy.

Evgeniy Kirilov strode into the office of Misha Sokorov as though he belonged there himself. As the man’s right hand he almost did. ‘You remember your friend,’ sneering as he said the word, ‘Joanna Maksim?’ 

‘Da, though she was more friends with my wife.’ 

‘She has turned up in Chicago.’

‘This is of interest to me why?’ 

‘She is assisting the police with an investigation. The arrests of our traffickers there.’

‘Is she now?’ 

‘You should be more worried.’

‘Why is that, Genya? She is nobody, and knows nothing.’ 

Evegeniy made an impatient sound. ‘She knows enough about our organisation to at minimum make waves and get us investigated.’

‘What police Tommy Donnelly does not own here, I do,’ Misha replied, still unconcerned and growing bored of Zhenya’s fretting. 

‘You have grown complacent and cocky.’ 

‘And you have grown paranoid.’

‘I have long been cautious, what you call paranoid. And you have survived this long because of that paranoia, my Mishka.’ 

‘I have told you not to call me that,’ Misha snapped.

Evegeniy’s jaw tightened. Misha had ended the secret, almost life-long relationship between them many months ago. He had been in love with Misha since he was 21, almost 30 years now. ‘You will do well to remember, _sir_ that my loyalty is to this family, which two generations of Kirilovs helped build. It is not to _you_.’

‘Are you daring to threaten me?’

‘It was meant as a caution, but if more effective as a threat, then yes, I dare,’ he hissed.

‘Get out of my office, Evengiy.’

‘If you will not deal with this girl, I will.’ 

‘I will take care of it.’ 

Evgeniy slammed the door behind him, cursing a blue streak as he stormed out of the mansion, infuriated at the family head’s lack of concern, for himself, and for the family. Evgeniy had been learning the ropes when Misha was still shitting in diapers, for christ’s sake! It was simply by accident of birth that Misha, not he, was in charge.

~*~

Back in Chicago, three days after the murder attempt, Antonio was asleep in a chair beside Jo’s bed. Will Halstead had made the case to allow him to remain, in no small part because he could provide protection, if there was another attempt on her life.

He was awakened by a nurse entering the room, a syringe in hand. ‘Who are you, I haven’t seen you before. And what are you giving her?’ 

‘I’m back from a vacation. It’s just her antibiotic.’ The man’s voice was accented, and Antonio’s blood ran cold. He was certain it was a Russian accent. 

‘You’re not giving her anything; it’s not time for her antibiotic. Step away from her.’ The man ignored him and attached the syringe to a port in the IV. Antonio drew his gun and took aim. ‘Get away from her, _now_.’

‘Really, there is no need for such theatrics.’ He started to push the IV. Antonio fired and the other man stumbled back before fleeing. 

‘Stop him!’ Antonio screamed, torn between giving chase and checking on Jo. The latter won.

‘What’s going on?’ a nurse asked, hurrying in. 

Antonio yanked the syringe from Jo’s IV and looked at it. It was almost fully drawn, but empty. It was just air. ‘What would this do if he’d pushed it in her IV?’ he demanded.

‘Who?’ 

‘The man that was just in here. He was dressed like a nurse, but I’m certain he wasn’t.’

The woman looked up sharply. ‘We don’t have any male nurses on staff today.’ She took the syringe and looked at it. It was a 5 mL syringe with 4.5 mL of air remaining ‘If the entire thing were pushed, it would cause a dangerous air embolism.’ She quickly turned the oxygen level Jo was receiving to 100%, and then moved to the bed and changed the position, lowering the head of it and elevating the feet. 

‘Is she going to be okay?’ Antonio asked, watching the nurse making the adjustments. 

‘Yes. Because you were able to stop him. We’ll keep a closer eye on her for a while, but she’ll be fine.’ 

With that assurance, Antonio sank back into the chair, pulling out his phone and calling Voight even though it was the middle of the night. 

‘Yeah?’

‘Someone just tried again to kill Jo.’ 

‘Is she okay?’ Hank sat up, coming fully awake in seconds.

‘The nurse says yes. I interrupted the person. I’m certain he was Russian. I shot him, so he may look for treatment.’

‘All right, I’ll be there in 20. Call central to have them put a watch out for GSWs. You get a look at this guy?’ 

‘Around 5-11, maybe 180, light brown hair, graying, gray eyes. Russian accent.’

‘Good. Stay with her, I’ll make some calls and see if organised crime can get some photos for you.’ 

‘Thanks.’ He hung up, then dialed central. After giving his name and badge number, he explained the situation and asked them to update him if anything turned up. When that was finished, he leaned forward, taking Jo’s hand. ‘I’m supposed to be the one with dangerous enemies,’ he whispered. ‘Not you. I’m sorry I got you involved.’

~*~

Evgeniy fled the hospital, cursing his stupidity at being caught. He also cursed Misha for hiring an incompetent idiot to kill the girl, leaving her almost-dead, but still alive enough to potentially survive.

He found a convenience store where he was ignored by the bored looking cashier as he selected some medical supplies and a small sewing kit. When he rang out, though, the boredom evaporated as he saw the still-bleeding wound. 

‘You see nothing,’ hissed Evgeniy. 

‘You got it man,’ the guy said quickly, nodding and averting his eyes. 

‘Bathroom?’ The cashier pointed and he hurried inside it, stripping off his shirt, putting it in his mouth and biting down on it. This was going to fucking hurt. He fished around the wound for the bullet, all but screaming into the shirt as he did. When he dug it out, he started sewing the gaping wound shut. When the thread was securely tied off, he covered it with gauze, taping it on. 

While he was in the bathroom, Jay Halstead and Kevin Atwater entered the store, hands on their holstered guns. The mobster had been ‘kind’ enough to leave a short blood trail, which they were able to follow far enough to narrow down potential locations. The second store they checked, the clerk looked shaken. _Bingo_

‘White dude come in here with a gunshot wound?’ Atwater asked, showing his badge. The clerk jerked his head toward the bathroom. ‘Okay. Get outta here till we’re gone.’ He had no idea if the assailant was armed and if a shootout went down, he wanted the clerk out of the way. More than happy to oblige, the clerk all but sprinted from the store as the cops positioned themselves on either side of the bathroom door. After silently counting to three, Atwater knocked.

‘One moment!’ Evgeniy called. He donned his bloody shirt once again, not having a change of clothes, then stuffed the unused supplies into his pocket. For appearances, he flushed the toilet and washed his hands. When he opened the door he was met with a gun in his face. 

Kevin Atwater held Evgeniy at gunpoint, and Jay Halstead snapped a photo with his phone, texting it to Antonio. Less than a minute later, a reply reading _that’s him_ popped up.

‘It’s him.’ 

Atwater spun him and slammed him against the wall, twisting his arms behind him and cuffing him. 

‘You’re really stupid enough to try to kill a cop’s girlfriend, in front of him?’ 

Evgeniy made the only intelligent choice he’d made that day. He kept his mouth shut, no matter how many times the cop tried to goad him into talking. 

Jay radioed that they had him in custody, and Voight replied, ‘Put him in the cage.’

The two men did so, Halstead pushing him a little harder than necessary, and not as hard as he wanted to. Evgeniy was a bit surprised to see that it actually was a cage and not, as he’d expected, a jail cell. He sat silently, waiting, for what he did not know.

When Hank Voight appeared, he looked up, still not speaking. The cop stared at him, arms folded across his chest, expression unreadable. ‘Evgeniy Kirilov. Second in command of the Sokorov crime family. You’re a popular guy. I see you’re wanted all over the world for drug and human trafficking, rape, and murder.’

‘Yes.’ 

‘What are you doing in Chicago trying to kill a Russian interpreter?’ 

‘She knows too much about too much.’ 

‘Hm. You already know you’re never walking free again; that’s why you’re talking, right?’

‘Yes.’ 

‘You’re not afraid of prison.’ It wasn’t a question. 

‘No.’ 

‘What about death? Death scare you?’

‘No’

‘No? Not even a slow death by torture? Death by a thousand cuts, roasting over a fire and burning slowly, or having all of your bones shattered, an inch at a time?’

Evgeniy frowned, not certain where this conversation was going, but definitely not liking it. 

‘You’re confused.’ The prisoner looked at him silently. ‘Allow me to explain. You’re not going to have to worry about any of the agencies looking for you. You’re not going to have to choose your next prison tattoo. Speaking of those, I have to say, I like the _officium ante seipsum, mors ante ignominiam_ one. Duty before self, death before dishonor, right? I hope you meant it.’ 

‘I meant it.’ 

‘So I guess it’s a waste of time offering you a deal.’ 

‘You have already told me that you are going to kill me. Why would I take a deal.’

‘Well, the deal would be a faster, less painful death, instead of a drawn out, agonising one.’ A muscle in Evgeniy’s jaw twitched, and it didn’t go unnoticed. ‘Since you’re confessing, I’ll make a confession too. I’ve killed a couple people myself. I opted for drowning. It’s a hell of a way to go, and water fucks with forensic evidence. But after I heard two little girls talk about being raped from infancy, I started researching some other ways to make people pay. There’s some fucked up people out there, with all sorts of ideas. You’re gonna be my guinea pig.’

‘You will start with me, over child molesters?’

‘They’ve already been booked and are in the system. So I can’t do what I want to with them. You, well, no one except my team knows you’re here. There’s no cameras in here. You’re not going to be booked or arraigned. As far as anyone will know, you fled the country to one with a non-extradition policy.’ He unlocked the cage door. ‘Get up. We’re going for a ride.’

He stood, heart pounding. He had indeed meant every word of his tattoo, but he had not expected death to be by torture. He’d expected that he would simply rot in prison. He walked silently in front of the cop who held him by the arm. 

‘We’re gonna be joined by one of my men; Joanna’s boyfriend. He’s looking forward to… talking to you.’ A cloth sack was pulled over his head before he was forced into the trunk of the car. 

The ride to the silos took around twenty minutes, giving Evgeniy time to think. He considered accepting the cop’s deal. He’d still be dead, but his idiot ex-lover would go down too. But that could bring down the entire family. Then again was what was left of the family worth protecting? His entire life, loyalty to the Sokorovs had been beaten into him, literally so, in some cases. But at the time, they had been a powerful family; Viktor Mikhailovich Sokorv had been keenly intelligent, brutal enough that few dared cross him, but caring enough that he inspired loyalty. He had built a genuine old-school criminal empire. But Misha, he had gotten lost. He had started out following his father’s teachings. But he had become westernised, blinded by the flash, greedy. His thoughts were interrupted by the trunk opening. He was pulled roughly from the car and led, still masked, into a building. Once inside, the mask was removed and he saw a second man, the cop who had shot him.

Evgeniy looked up at the ceiling, his eyes unfocused, thoughts racing. He had to make a decision, now. Drawing a deep breath he lowered his head, meeting the older cops eyes. ‘I am willing to talk,’ he said finally. 

Antonio spluttered angrily, but Hank held up his hand. ‘You know that’s not going to save your life.’

‘Yes.’ 

‘So why?’ 

‘Are you looking in the mouth of a gift horse?’ 

‘Call it curiosity.’

The Russian shrugged. ‘First, a couple small requests.’ 

‘Here we go,’ muttered Antonio.

‘No. Very small. I would like to sit, and to smoke. And to know the names of my executioners.’ 

‘I suppose you want the handcuffs off, too,’ Antonio said sarcastically. 

‘Not if you are willing to light my cigarettes. I know you do not trust me. You have no reason to.’

Antonio frowned and glanced sidelong at Hank. 

‘Your call,’ Voight replied. 

‘What do we get in return? Or is this simply a last confession?’

‘Enough information to wholly dismantle the Sokorov family, or what is left of it.’

‘Twelve hours you tried to kill my girlfriend because she knew too much. Now you’re willing to provide more information than she could possibly know?! What is your angle?’ 

‘I got caught. I had time to think, to realise there is nothing remaining worth being loyal to. Misha is a fucking idiot who will ruin the reputation of the Sokorov name. At the risk of... what do you say-beeping my own horn? I was the one who maintained the organisation after Viktor died. Misha will ruin the empire. My loyalty is to the family. And having them taken down by police is more preferable than having it fail by incompetence.’

Antonio motioned to Hank indicating they should move away to talk. ‘Let him talk. Let’s give him what he’s asked for, get the information.’ The concession pained him, because he was desperate to beat the man half to death. 

‘This might be worth his life,’ Hank suggested pragmatically.

‘No.’ 

‘Antonio-’

_’No.’_

‘Why don’t we let Jo make that call?’

Antonio opened his mouth to argue that that meant that the man would live, because she would never okay an execution. He closed it again, knowing she wouldn’t forgive him for making that decision for her. ‘Fine, but if she dies, so does he, no matter what.’ 

‘Agreed.’ They returned to Evgeniy, who had been watching the discussion. 

‘Fine. You wanted names. I’m Detective Antonio Dawson. That’s Sergeant Hank Voight. I’m going to go get the cigarettes.’ He needed a few minutes to process this, and to check on Jo. Kim Burgess and Trudy Platt were sitting with her right now. He called Trudy as he started the car. ‘Any change?’

‘They’re no longer concerned about an air embolism, but she still hasn’t woken up. Tell me you found this asshole.’

‘The one from today, yes. The original hitman, not yet.’ 

‘You do what needs doing, Antonio.’ 

‘We’ve got it covered. There’s a deal in the works, but not much of one, for him.’ 

‘What do you mean, _a deal_?’ she demanded indignantly.

‘Trust me Trudy, it’s worth it, or I wouldn’t have agreed. And Jo has the final say as to what happens to him.’ 

‘Hmph.’ 

‘I gotta go. We’ll keep you posted.’

Back at the silo, Hank got chairs for the three of them. He sat Evgeniy down, securing his ankles and one wrist, leaving the other free. ‘A good faith gesture. Don’t make me regret it.’ 

He also set up a video camera with a backdrop to disguise their location. Organised Crime was going to need this, and while Hank’s use of this location was an open secret, he had no interest in providing proof of its use.

‘Enough good information may be worth your life,’ Hank informed him. ‘But Joanna has the final say in that. And if she dies, so do you.’ 

‘That is more than I expected.’ At that moment, the conversation between him and Misha popped into his head, and he huffed a silent laugh. 

‘Something funny?’

‘More so ironic.’ 

‘Oh?’

‘Four days ago I told that idiot Misha he was only still alive because of my paranoia. Then I make stupid emotional decisions, and…’ He gestured to the handcuffs and Hank.

‘That _is_ ironic.’

When Antonio returned, he tossed the cigarettes and lighter at Evgeniy. ‘I called Trudy. No change,’ he said to Hank. 

He took a seat staring at Evgeniy. Hank started the camera and made sure it was recording correctly before sitting down. 

‘A copy of this recording is going to the Organised Crime division of the Chicago police department. State your name and background.’ 

‘Evgeniy Antonovich Kirilov. Born 14th July, 1969 in Leningrad-St Petersburg. For more than 35 years, I have been in service to the Sokorov crime family. My father Anton was the second to Viktor Mikhailovich Sokorv. When Viktor died, Misha-Mikhail Viktorovich Sokorov, took over, and I became his second.’ For the next two and a half hours, he laid bare the foundation of the family, locations of safe houses, drug processing facilities, the routes used to smuggle drugs and humans, as well as banks and account numbers. He had used them so often, for so long, that they were committed to memory. Hank had him wait as Antonio checked the bank information. As Evgeniy had given permission, they didn’t need a warrant to access the accounts.

‘It’s legit,’ Antonio confirmed. 

‘What do you know of the drug operations here in Chicago, that led to the arrests of half a dozen people and the rescue of two children?’

‘As much as I know of any operation.’ He reiterated the salient points. 

‘Did you know those girls were there?’

‘No. I do not keep up on the families of employees unless it becomes necessary.’

‘Necessary for what?’

‘Blackmail, intimidation, securing cooperation. However you wish to word it.’ It was all the same. 

Antonio was chilled by the way he spoke indifferently about toying with people's lives, people who may not even be involved, as though he were discussing boring HR matters at a Fortune 100 company. Having had his own son kidnapped by such a person, for that very reason, he found it difficult to remain seated.

‘Hm.’ Hank flipped through his notepad. ‘What’s the relationship between the Sokorovs and the Donnelly family?’ 

‘Misha tried to forge an alliance. In some ways he succeeded. He walks in their shadows however. He is under the thumb of Tommy Donnelly. 

‘Do you resent him for that?’

‘No. I think it is a good thing. It keeps Misha from becoming too reckless. The Donnellys made it known to Misha that _they_ not Misha, ran Atlantic City and much of the east coast that is not controlled by the Italians.’

Antonio jumped in, ‘I want to repeat the conversation earlier, for the record now: Earlier today, you attempted to kill Joanna Maksim, who was functioning as an interpreter for the two children we rescued. She was in the hospital because of a failed attempt on her life. First what do you know about that first attempt, second, why did you try to kill her yourself, and third, why are you cooperating now?’ 

‘I did not know of the first attempt until after the fact. Misha had hired someone to kill her. I suspect I am at fault for that, as I told him he needed to do something about her, but I was not clear that a kidnapping was what I had had in mind.’

‘What would that accomplish?’

‘You recall what I said, about going after family of people needing to be controlled?’ 

‘Yes.’ Realisation dawned. ‘You wanted to use her to get to me.’ 

‘Yes. As well as to secure her silence. As I said earlier: she knew too much about too much. Which brings us to your third question. Why am I cooperating? Yes?’

‘Yes.’

‘Misha is a weak, incompetent leader. He has no business sense, he is greedy. He is ambitious but without the sense to accomplish what he wants. The Sokorov empire is doomed to fail. It is preferable to me to see it ended by police, than to fail from his incompetence.’

‘Why?’

‘It is always expected that police can intervene. There is no dishonor in that. Poor leadership, however… it is embarrassing. And that, there is dishonor. I am honoring the legacy of Viktor by ensuring his name is not associated with incompetence.’ 

‘How noble,’ Antonio said drily. 

‘No. Honorable. That is different to noble. I am not a noble man. I am an honorable one.’

 _‘Is_ there a difference?’

‘Of course. Noble implies goodness. I am far from a good man. Honor implies respectability. However evil I am, I keep to my word, and I strive to earn and maintain respect. Respectability and goodness can be mutually exclusive.’ 

‘That’s an interesting way of looking at things.’ 

‘It’s an old fashioned way.’ 

‘Anything else you’d like to say?’ 

‘Not that comes to mind. Any other questions for me?’

‘Not that come to mind,’ Hank parroted with a smirk. He got up and turned the camera off. Then he said, ‘As I told you before, you will be kept alive. Joanna will get the decision whether you live or die. The man who attempted to kill her… he won’t be so lucky.’

Evgeniy understood. ‘He was too incompetent to finish the job. If I would have found him, I would have executed him myself.’ He saw Antonio glowering at him and raised an eyebrow. ‘As I said to you: Honorable, not noble.’ He shifted, grimacing at the pain in his shoulder. ‘One last thing. If you intend to keep me alive, for now at least, I need medical attention. I did not clean the wound, and the chances of it becoming infected are quite high.’ 

Hank could see the simple truth there and agreed. ‘I’ll call Will,’ he told Antonio. ‘You should get back to the hospital.’

‘In a minute.’ He approached Evgeniy, utter hatred in his eyes. ‘Stand.’ He unlocked the man’s other wrist so that he could comply. When Evgeniy stood before him, he slammed his fist into the man’s ribs, then brought his knee up and Evgeniy’s head down, shattering his nose. Crying out in pain, Evgeniy feel to his knees gasping for air. But he didn’t object. Retribution was fair after all.


End file.
